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CAMPING 

AT 

CHERRY POND 



By 
HENRY ABBOTT 



NEW YORK 
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Copyright 191 6 

by 

HENRY ABBOTT 



DEC i6i9J6 



C1.A446812 



Camping at Cherry Pond 

WE were out of meat. We were 
not in imminent danger of 
starvation, nor indeed of 
hunger, but were reduced to what 
might be called a vegetable diet, and 
not a great variety of that. Bige and 
I discussed the situation while we ate 
our frugal evening meal of flapjacks, 
maple syrup, and onions. We had eaten 
onions, syrup, and flapjacks for lunch- 
eon, and syrup, onions, and flapjacks 
for breakfast that same day. The last 
of our stock of bacon had been con- 
sumed twenty-four hours earlier, and 
the last of our eggs had served as part 
of breakfast on the morning of the 
previous day. Our fresh meat had dis- 
appeared fLYe days before, and the po- 
tato bag was empty. We had some 
coffee and plenty of spring water. The 

3 



flapjacks were good, but we were not 
quite happy. There was a lot of same- 
ness in our diet, which was far from 
agreeable, and we now were consider- 
ing ways and means. 

I suppose it is due to the perversity 
of the human animal that he craves 
what is sometimes called a "balanced 
ration." We were both fond of flap- 
jacks, and likewise of onions. There is 
nothing quite so satisfying as onions, 
cooked over and eaten by the camp 
fire ; but onions three times a day, and 
day after day — well, I suppose it would 
have been just as bad if we had been 
sentenced to eat ice cream for a steady 
diet. I seem to recall that we had, in 
our Sunday-school days, the authority 
of the Good Book for the statement 
that the Israelites went on a strike be- 
cause they were obliged to eat quail 
three times a day for a long while. 



Bige and I were living at the Cherry 
Pond Camp. We had gone over there 
to hunt deer, and had taken in with us, 
ten days previously, what we consid- 
ered a good supply of food ; but then, 
we had counted on shooting a deer and 
expected to have venison to add to our 
cuisine. Of course we could have gone 
back to Brown's hotel and gotten some 
more food, but Deerland Lodge was 
ten miles away; besides, the people 
there would have laughed at us if we 
had returned empty-handed. We were 
expected to bring "meat'' back with 
us, but luck had been against us. 

There were plenty of fish in Cherry 
Pond. We had caught them there many 
times, but at the time of which I 
write the season was closed for both 
speckled and lake trout, and, more- 
over, we had brought no fishing tackle, 
so a fish diet was out of the discussion. 

5 



It was early October, and the deer- 
hunting season had opened on the first 
day of the month. We had come to 
hunt deer, but we had no thought of 
taking a mean advantage of the deer 
or of violating the game law by hunt- 
ing him at night along the shores of 
the pond with a jack light. That would 
have been too easy, and in our opinion 
little short of murder. We proposed to 
be sporty and practice only the "still- 
hunting" method. That would give the 
deer long odds and, so to speak, a run- 
ning chance for his life. Under the 
prevailing conditions the chances were 
indeed about twenty to one in his 
favor. 

In still hunting one must sneak 
through the woods, making no sound 
and as Httle motion as possible. Pref- 
erably one should also hunt "up wind," 
but this is not always possible. The 



deer has been provided with a pair of 
very large ears capable of collecting 
the sound made by a breaking twig 
many rods away; and his sense of 
smell is so keen as to telegraph to his 
brain the human scent and warn him 
of the approach of his hereditary 
enemy long before he is within range 
of vision. It is also the habit of the 
deer, when lying down, to take such a 
position that he can keep his eye on 
his own back track, while he has in 
effect "his ear to the ground." 

At this time the leaves had just be- 
gun to fall, and there had been no rain 
for many days, so when one walked 
through the woods the leaves rustled, 
and dried twigs and branches snapped, 
making the forest "noisy." 

There were many deer living in the 
vicinity of Cherry Pond. We had seen 
tracks and other signs of their pres- 

8 



ence, but on the few occasions when 
we saw a deer it was usually only the 
flash of his white tail as he jumped 
from behind a clump of bushes and 
disappeared behind a rock or other 
screen. Twice we took snap shots, and 
in each instance the bullet, we found, 
was imbedded in a tree trunk that the 
deer had succeeded in placing between 
the gun and himself at the first run- 
ning jump. I had also sat many hours 
on logs watching runways while Bige 
tramped around a hill or over a moun- 
tain to drive a deer past my watch 
station. On one occasion when I heard 
a deer coming and was all ready to 
shoot, he evidently suspected danger, 
crossed over to another parallel run- 
way, and passed without coming into 
view. 

We had traveled many miles in our 
hunt, had been over Panther Moun- 



tain and Eagle Mountain, had been up 
Beaver River Valley, and had visited 
Pickwocket Pond and Muskrat City. 
We had hunted carefully and pa- 
tiently, but had each night gone back 
to camp without meat, and the situa- 
tion was becoming serious. 

Cherry Pond, so named because of 
the quantities of wild cherries that 
grow near it, was one of our favorite 
camping places, and we had spent more 
or less time there every year for the 
past fifteen years, both during the 
fishing and hunting seasons. Many a 
fine trout has found his ultimate des- 
tiny in our frying pan over the Cherry 
Pond camp fire. 

Bige and I had built an open log 
camp there: one of the type called a 
"lean-to." It is so named because it 
leans to or against nothing. In other 
words, the camp has three sides, a 

10 




a 

o 

& 

bo 

G 



sloping roof, an overhanging or pro- 
jecting hood, and a fireplace built of 
stone in front. This type of camp can 
be made very comfortable except in 
cold winter weather, and in it one can 
be sure of plenty of fresh air. Some of 
the enclosed log cabins we have built 
are not so well ventilated and are liable 
to be close and stuffy. 

We had a lot of fun in building this 
camp. It was substantially made, and 
with a few repairs to the roof has 
sheltered us for twelve years. 

The first step in building a camp is 
to look for a spring of good pure water. 
In this case, after searching for sev- 
eral days and failing to find one, we 
selected a spot where the lay of the 
land indicated that a spring ought to 
be and dug for it. We found about 
three feet below the surface a vein of 
ice water that has never failed in the 
driest season. 

19 



Next, we selected a spot on top of a 
knoll about fifty feet above the sur- 
face of the pond and two hundred feet 
away from it, where we staked out 
our foundation. This elevation put us 
above the fog and damp air which set- 
tle down on the water at night. 

Then we proceeded to make a set of 
drawings and specifications such as 
would be made in building a house. 
The logs and roof timbers were cut 
and fitted to specification before they 
were carried to position. The ground 
plan was twelve by eight feet. The 
ridge pole was nine feet high. The 
hood projected two feet, and was seven 
feet above ground. The walls were 
made of spruce logs, and were five feet 
high. The bottom log was ten inches 
in diameter ; others graduated in size 
up to five inches at the top. Rafters 
were placed four inches apart; these 

13 



and other roof timbers were made of 
spruce saplings two to three inches in 
diameter ; and the roof and gable ends 
were covered with tar-paper, the roof 
projecting one foot beyond the walls 
all around to keep the outside of logs 
dry. Cracks between the logs were 
calked with dry moss. 

On the ground, across the front, we 
placed a log ten inches in diameter, 
and another of the same size parallel 
to it at the rear. Across these two logs 
from front to rear we placed birch 
saplings one and one-half inches in 
diameter at the butt. These poles were 
selected with some care to have them 
straight, and they were placed one- 
half inch apart, butts to the front; 
and a single wire nail fastened each 
pole to the front log and kept it in 
position. The small ends of poles were 
left free to slide on the rear log when 

14 



bent. On top of this birch gridiron we 
made our bed of balsam boughs. The 
result was as comfortable a spring bed 
as one can buy at a furniture house. 

We built a cupboard at one end of 
the shack in which to store our food, 
and it was eaten up by porcupines and 
rebuilt the second time before we 
learned to cover the boards with tin. 
Also, after one table had been chewed 
up by the animals, we suspended the 
new one with wire from the roof of 
the camp on leaving, and since then 
have found it in good condition when 
we returned. 

The camp afforded sleeping space 
for three or four persons. On occa- 
sions when we had several guests we 
would set up a tent in the back yard. 

From time to time we made im- 
provements; for example, we built a 
pavilion to cover the dining table so 

15 



that in rainy weather we were not 
obliged to eat our meals on the bed. 

One day during the hunt we came 
upon signs of bear only a few rods 
from the camp, and the tracks and 
other evidence of his presence were 
fresh. He had not been gone more than 
a few minutes when we arrived. The 
black bear of our forests is very fond 
of cherries and other fruits. The wild 
cherries of these woods are of a su- 
perior variety. They are much larger 
and sweeter than the ordinary type of 
choke (or pin) cherry. They are black 
and have a bitter-sweet flavor. We 
often eat them, but they are best used 
in making "cherry bounce." 

The bear will gorge himself on these 
cherries, and he is no conservationist. 
He climbs a tree if it is a large one and 
breaks off all the branches. If it hap- 
pens to be a small tree, he v/ill tear it 

16 



down and break it limb from limb, or 
he may pull it up by the roots, thus 
destroying the crop for another year. 
The bear is a typical American. 

On another day we decided to sus- 
pend hunting operations and go over 
to Otter Pond, about a mile away, to 
inspect the lumber operations of a 
colony of beavers that live there ; so 
we left our guns in camp, and Bige 
carried a boat over the trail, while I 
took my camera. 

Just as we emerged from the woods 
we saw on the shore of Otter Pond, 
quietly browsing and about seventy- 
five yards away, a big buck deer hav- 
ing five prongs on each horn. 

"Gosh!" said Bige. 

We looked at him some minutes be- 
fore he discovered our presence and 
loped off into the woods. It was as fine 
a shot as we shall ever have if we hunt 

17 




The Beaver House 



the balance of our lives, but our guns 
were a mile away. 

While paddling across the pond and 
near an island we heard a squeaking 
sound such as a lot of mice might 
make. Stopping the boat to listen, we 
soon saw, on a partly sunken log, six 
young mink. They were about the size 
of kittens when a week old. We sat 
quietly watching them a few minutes, 
when the mother mink came to the 
surface with a trout about five inches 
long in her mouth. She swam to the 
log and laid the fish on it, when the 
little ones scrambled for it, tearing it 
into shreds in a jiffy. They fought 
over the last scrap while the mother 
mink dove under the water again, and 
we continued across the pond to the 
beaver house which was on the oppo- 
site shore. 

This beaver house was made of 

19 



sticks of wood of varying size fastened 
together by mud. It was cone-shaped 
and placed on the bank with one edge 
in the water. It was about fifteen feet 
in diameter at the base and seven feet 
high at the center. There were five 
separate canals or ditches sunk below 
the bottom of the pond, all entering 
the house under its base and about 
four feet below the surface of the wa- 
ter. These allowed the beaver entrance 
and exit when the ice was very thick 
in winter. 

We stopped our boat alongside, 
pounded on the roof with the paddle 
and waited for a response. We heard 
a murmur of beaver talk inside, and 
in two or three minutes there came a 
sudden splash directly behind us and 
a shower of water poured over my 
head and down the back of my neck. 
The grandfather beaver, the largest 



of his tribe, had come out through one 
of the cellar passages, under the boat, 
had come to the surface behind us, had 
lifted his tail, which was as broad and 
flat as Bige's paddle, and slapped the 
water with it, throwing spray at least 
six feet into the air. When I caught 
sight of him he was in the act of div- 
ing, but he presently came to the sur- 
face again, about fifty feet away, and 
started swimming toward the opposite 
shore. I wanted his portrait for my 
collection, so we went paddling after 
him. Five or six times we got near 
enough to focus the camera on him 
and press the button at just the in- 
stant when he slapped the water and 
dove under. The result was a half- 
dozen pictures of fountains but no 
beaver. 

We were now a half-mile away from 
the house up the pond and for the first 

21 



■Jr 




A Beaver Fountain 



time realized that we were victims of 
a perfidious beaver trick. His sole pur- 
pose was, clearly, to allure us as far 
away from his house and his family 
as possible, and he had won. 

About fifteen years previously a 
fire had burned over nearly a hundred 
acres of forest on the northern shore 
of Otter Pond, and this was now 
grown up with poplar and white-birch 
saplings. The bark of both these trees 
is used as food by the beavers, and 
they were now busily at work cutting 
down, clearing away, and storing for 
winter use this second growth of tim- 
ber. 

Unlike the bear. Brother Beaver is 
very thorough and economical in his 
operations. Nothing is wasted. He cuts 
down a tree with his chisel-shaped 
teeth, takes out a chip just such as 
comes from a lumberman's ax, cuts 

23 



the tree into approximately four-foot 
lengths, trims out the branches, and 
carries away every scrap of it, even the 
small twigs. Nothing is left where the 
tree fell but stump and chips. What is 
not required for immediate use is piled 
up under water to keep the bark soft 
and fresh for winter consumption. And 
when he has peeled and eaten the bark 
from a stick, he saves that stick for 
use in enlarging his house or in re- 
pairing his dam. 

At one corner of the pond was a 
swampy place through which a sys- 
tem of canals had been dug, down 
which the lumber might be floated to 
the open water on the way to the stor- 
age place. There were also roadways 
on the hillside, cleared and smooth, 
down which hundreds of sticks had 
been dragged to the water. About ten 
acres had been thoroughly cleared, and 



there were signs of activity on every 
hand, but most of the actual work was 
done at night. The beaver was the 
pioneer civil engineer of the American 
continent. At Otter Pond he had re- 
paired and rebuilt a dam which had 
been used by a lumber company twenty 
years before. 

To return to the discussion at our 
evening meal of the meat famine : Bige 
said that if we would get up early in 
the morning, long before sunrise, and 
go across the pond and up into the 
mouth of Fox River, we should find 
deer feeding there on the yellow pond 
lilies and button grass. We would have 
to find a hiding place before it got 
light, as the deer seldom stayed long 
at the water after sunrise. 

So in the chill and shivery hours of 
the following morning we were on our 
way, I in the bow of the boat headed 

26 



forward with my Winchester across 
my knees, and Bige operating a "still 
paddle'' at the stern. By this method 
the paddle is not lifted out of the wa- 
ter; it is merely turned in the water 
so that the sharp edge of the blade is 
presented on moving it forward and 
the broad side is against the water on 
pushing it back. No ripple is made, or 
other sound, and the boat moves for- 
ward like a ghost through the dark- 
ness. A dense fog had settled down 
near the water, but it was clear over- 
head. 

Groping along the opposite shore 
through the fog, we made our way 
finally into the mouth of Fox River 
and immediately heard a great splash- 
ing and sloshing just ahead. It sounded 
as if a lot of cattle might be wading 
across the stream, but we could see 
nothing but fog. Bige whispered from 

«7 



the other end of the boat: "There's a 
whole herd of them ; pick the one with 
the biggest horns." I cocked my rifle 
so as to be ready for a quick shot, 
while Bige pulled the boat up along 
shore behind an overhanging wild- 
rose bush, and we waited with nerve 
and muscle tense. The splashing con- 
tinued for what seemed a long time. 
Finally the rising sun crept over the 
hilltop and the fog rolled slowly up 
like a proscenium curtain in a theater 
and disclosed, at a distance of about 
thirty yards, a doe standing in the 
shallow water and quietly eating but- 
ton grass, while two spotted fawns 
were playing tag, racing up and down, 
splashing water in every direction. 
With head and tail erect they would 
run about, kicking up their heels and 
snorting like a lot of calves at play in 
a barnyard. 

9S 




One of the Partridges 



This was a show worth the price of 
admission, and we sat and watched it 
for fully ten minutes, when a shifting 
breeze apparently carried our scent to 
the mother, who instantly sounded a 
note of warning, and the family party 
quickly disappeared through the brush 
into the tall timber, and we paddled 
back across Cherry Pond to our break- 
fast of flapjacks, syrup, and onions. 

As we approached the landing place 
it occurred to me that the hammer of 
my gun was still up, and that the gun 
had not been lifted from my knees 
during the entire performance. As I 
let the hammer down and removed the 
cartridge from the barrel, I was con- 
scious of a sense of relief that nothing 
had occurred to disturb the pleasant 
relations of the happy family. 

After breakfast I went over on the 
Wolf Mountain tote road and shot four 
so 



fine fat partridges. That night we had 
roast partridge for dinner. Have you 
ever eaten partridge that had been 
roasted in a Dutch oven before a camp 
fire? Well, say! "Jes take and have 
'em stuffed with onions, baste 'em well, 
and roast 'em brown with a lot of 
gravy." 



31 



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